


the economics of relationships

by effies_tardis



Series: the need to know [2]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-05
Updated: 2017-02-05
Packaged: 2018-09-22 03:11:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9579821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/effies_tardis/pseuds/effies_tardis
Summary: A beginner's course for those who love too much and receive too little. — A story about the choices we make. And the cost of them.





	

**Author's Note:**

> An immediate follow up to "This is Water" -- please read that first before this one for clarity! This one took about a year and a half to write; I started this as a junior in high school, and now I am a freshman in college. Note that I didn't change much to adhere to canon, lol.

"Hey,"

He calls for her in the morning, wakes her up gently and his hair is tousled and his is face harbors the remnants of ink-stained business plans and the imprints of spiral bound notebooks. She rolls over and he smiles, and she smiles, but before she can even say good morning, he completes his thought.

"Did you fill out the request forms? I need them done by noon."

Her face must have fallen too noticeably, because he tries to hide his confusion with his bed swept hair and glistening blue eyes. If he weren't her dreamy best friend turned boss, she'd have killed him by now.

X

A beginner's course for those who love too much and receive too little. 

X

 Fire Lady Mai is remotely intimidating and expects much more than she probably should. What Zhu Li was told — and by way of her, Varrick — was that while Fire Lady Mai may be confined to a wheelchair and requires medical assistance everywhere she goes, she is no less dangerous as she was in her youth.

Zhu Li had a hard time believing this until she stood before the old woman for the first time ever and bowed in both respect and fear. Varrick — the idiot, her idiot — had failed to comply to Fire Nation custom until Zhu Li pulled him by the hand for him to follow suit.

Picture this: two twenty-three year old kids shaking in their boots before a nearly ninety year old woman who has to lean on her attendant to even stand.

Fire Lady Mai takes some pleasure in this. She smiles slightly and says, "Sir Varrick, welcome to the Royal Fire Palace. Is this your—?"

She glances at Zhu Li.

Varrick doesn't skip a beat. "Assistant. Zhu Li."

Zhu Li must've given him a look because Fire Lady Mai smirks slightly and glances at the two of them as if she knows the disparity between what Varrick considers Zhu Li and what Zhu Li considers herself. The word partner comes to mind, but it's too late to correct or question — Zhu Li plays along and confirms Varrick's venture with a light smile and a brisk nod. He is none the wiser, and in fact seems pleased with her reaction.

Shortly after:

"Assistant?" she asks once they are left alone in the sitting room. Her voice is as shrill as it can when confined to a whisper. But Varrick just flinches and ignores her; she slaps his arm as she repeats her incredulity, "Assistant?!"

 "For now," he says, almost promises. "It's easier to market a business under one head."

And she believes him, despite all things.

 X

 The other UMC leaders are – well, they’re old. Old men who eye her hungrily and even Varrick picks up on their intentions, because he shields her with his body and sticks his hand out in front of him for them to shake.

“Varrick Blackstone, nice to meet you,” and he gives them all he’s got. Smiles and winks and charisma, everything.

 She feels out of place. This good old boys’ club is cozy and close and they’re laughter and cognac and Varrick fits right in. Sits down right across the biggest Fire Nation magnate and pretends they’ve been friends forever. He hasn’t even introduced her yet, and already he’s casting her off to the side.

No matter, she thinks, and puts herself out there, right behind the man of the hour. Unbuttons the top of her blouse and answers any stray question that Varrick fails to answer. If she’s not mistaken, Varrick seems proud.

One of the Northern Water Tribe men saunters over to her, pulls her aside, and pours her a glass of wine. She sees Varrick shoot her a questioning look as he talks up the Fire Nation guy – should I come by?

As if. She shakes her head.

So begins her spiel: “Mr. Blackstone has expressed interest in establishing a direct line of–“  

Northern Water Tribe rolls his eyes. Cocks a grin and says something like sweetheart, you’d be prettier if you smiled.

Did she hear correctly?

“Oh, oh – thank you…?” she stammers, caught off guard by the man pulling her in close. She steps back, giving herself a respectable space between herself and this definitely drunk-at-noon businessman.

He leans back in. “What do you say you ditch that blue buffoon of yours and I’ll show you what a real man feels like?”

She must’ve made a sour face, because he scoffs and asks, “Do you know who I am?”

(The name is lost in her mind.)

 Zhu Li has no answer for him. Her words die at the base of her throat when she tries to respond to him evenly. Displeased, he sneers and calls out to Varrick, who is right in the middle of getting Fire Nation Rich Guy’s signature on the petition their company needs filled to get UMC funding.

 “Mr. Blackstone,” Northern Water Tribe drawls out, “How do you expect to work with us when you hire people who are ill-versed in the basics of international business?” 

Varrick’s face falls. Has to pull his lips into a smile to let everyone know he’s confused. Laughs, “I’m sorry?”

“I just had to explain to your assistant why the westerlies would impede shipping to the Fire Nation in the winter. I should not have to waste my time with simple education,” the other says pointedly. He glances back at her, “Women don’t have a place here, Mr. Blackstone. Not this one.”

Zhu Li watches the Fire Nation businessman hand back Varrick the empty petition. She doesn’t have to look at him to know that he is angry.

X

“Varry—“

The door slams shut in her face.

She rests her closed fist on the wood and leans her forehead into it. “This is unfair. You’re being unfair.”

Door swings wide open. Varrick is red with anger.

 “Sue me, Zhu Li, for being upset at you,” he yells. He hovers around her and gets tight in her face. “I don’t know what you said to him—“

“I declined his offer to fuck, Varrick, he just,” Zhu Li blurts out, and she feels heat rise up in her cheeks and she leans back when the anger fades. “He just didn’t like my answer.”

Varrick turns. “Then maybe.” 

“Maybe what?” Her hand is on his shoulder. “Varrick?" 

“Maybe he is right. Women don’t belong in there.”

The door closes softly.

X

They don’t speak for a month. Varrick comes and goes – on business, his notes say in his frazzled script – and Zhu Li haunts the town.

This month, she is her own person. Takes oolong with sugar, leaves her hair down, and even earthbends for fun. She begins to learn _kashi_ , the Fire Nation's native language and takes lessons from the elderly men and women chasing tea with meager pai sho winnings on their front porches.

After forty-one days of silence, after she throws his dinner in front of him, the noodles sloshing onto the table and the sauce splattering onto his face, Varrick gives up. 

“I’m sorry.”

“For?”

She watches him clean up after himself. He sighs his answer. “I just want you safe. I don’t want you in a position where, you know.”

He lifts his eyes to look at her, and he’s all puppy-dog and wounded and—well, she gets it. She just, just…

She doesn’t even know anymore. Feels angry at nothing. Looks at him like she’s sorry, too, but that isn’t the point here. And what can she say to him? It’s you and me, that’s the deal? But it’s not, and it never was. She said yes to his offer and turned Ba Sing Se away for good.

Zhu Li takes in a deep breath. 

“Okay.”

And that’s it. No fanfare, no formal acceptance of his apology. But he beams anyway.

X

Her Uncle’s first letter arrives one day, and it says: 

 _Come home._  

She doesn’t. But that goes without saying.

X

And then one day Varrick comes home with good news radiating out of him. The petition is signed unanimously — the South Pole Shipping Confederation, after all this time is now part of the UMC.

 There is laughter all around in their tiny, dingy apartment. Zhu Li jumps into his arms.

"There is a catch," Varrick says gently, putting Zhu Li down on her feet. His face melts softer, and the look he's giving her rubs her the wrong way. "I have to sell my patent."

"What?" she asks, confused. She blinks quickly, as if doing so would bring sense to his statement. "Then—?"

But Varrick — sweet, sweet Varrick — cups her cheek with one hand and assures her, "We'll be okay. Just... we'll just go back to the drawing board. Between you and me, there's bound to be something brilliant."

She's unconvinced. A million things race through her head, but she smiles anyway.

X

The first stipend comes, and the both of them nearly faint at the amount.

"There's a comma, Zhu Li," Varrick exclaims, holding the check to the light. "And we've done nothing yet! Imagine when we actually start profiting!"

Zhu Li has stars in her eyes just at the thought.

But a month passes, and which each day that comes, Zhu Li realizes that there are little original ideas left in the world, and that when Varrick is stressed, nothing gets done.

Nothing, except perhaps drinking copious amounts of booze.

And women.

"Zhu _Li_ ," Varrick whines as she pries him off a barely legal, definitely drunk, girl.

(Scantily clad, after his money, women)

She grimaces.

"Sober up. We're going home."

X

And then it all catches up to them. When the stipend checks stop coming, Varrick stops drinking, and everything, all at once, becomes serious. 

X

"Varrick, your tea," Zhu Li says.

He doesn't even look up. His fingers move furiously across the typewriter and all she hears are the slaps of the keys against parchment and a sigh slipping out of his slacked mouth. And then: "Sir." 

"Excuse me?" 

"I am your boss. _Sir_."

Forgive her, for she might have sounded a bit undermining and a bit fed-up at this point. Hip juts out, the cup of tea goes askew in her hands — she's stunned by the frankness of his comment.

"Sir," she corrects herself. "Your tea."

He sighs. "Zhu Li, please." 

"I'm sorry, sir."

She bows. Half-heartedly, if it helps. 

X

Zhu Li is shook awake one night by a frantic Varrick.

"Wha-?" she asks, rubbing at her eyes, confused.

"No time, Zhu Li," he says, throwing a jacket to her face. "Get dressed, we're going for a walk."

She frowns, glancing at the clock on the table beside her. "It's 2 o'clock in the morning."

"Okay? And?" Varrick says, as if it wasn't an unreasonable time to be awake. Rolling his eyes at her incredulous silence, he says, "I'll be outside. Don't take too long." 

And so she doesn't.

Outside, it was chilly — at least, in fire nation standards. She shivers, pulling the jacket Varrick threw at her closer to her body.

"I have an idea," he tells her, crossing his arms above his head as his breath crystallizes in the air. He glances at her and winks, as if to pull her into his scheme. Like she has a choice to not be a part of it. "I need your expert counsel. Hear me out."

And she's all ears.   

(He drapes his scarf over her when he sees her shaking. It's unconscious. Absentminded. As if it were a natural thing for him to do. This is something she doesn't forget.) 

X 

They send in the patent together with only hope left in them.

"Good job, sir," she says. 

Varrick lifts his eyes, and for a second, there is uncertainty. Then: "Let's get some noodles, yeah?"

X 

The patent failed.

Repeat the process six more times until:

A vase shatters in the living room. Varrick is palms to the wall, arms straight, his head tilted down and his hair wild in his face. Breathing heavy, angry.

He is crying. 

Zhu Li walks over to him, her eyes glistening, but she refuses to falter. She places a hand on his shoulder; he relaxes for a moment, his arm bending just a bit, until he punches the wall in a rage.

"I... I don't get it," he says quietly, knuckles bleeding as he allows Zhu Li to cradle his hand. "What did I do wrong?"

She has no answer for him.

Not like he wanted one.

X 

Also — they are out of the stronger liquor and Varrick is guzzling red wine despite his impossibly high tolerance for alcohol. Zhu Li drinks alongside him, because between her uncle withholding her inheritance and Varrick's week-long mourning of his seventh business failure in a period of four months, there is much to be forgotten. Inhibitions, she supposes, is one of such unnecessary tethers. 

"Zhu Li," he mumbles, her name sounding more like a string of incoherent syllables than anything else. He lies across the leather couch haphazardly, his feet propped up on the sofa arm and his shoes barely hanging onto his toes. With heavily-lidded eyes — weighed down by the light buzz of wine and eternal tiredness — he watches her cross back from the kitchen with the last of the wine bottles from the cabinet. Groaning and slumping further into the couch, he repeats her name, "Zhu Li!" 

"Yes, sir?" she answers, settling herself on the floor by his head, her back up against the sofa and her feet stretched out before her. She refills both their glasses and hands his to him without casting a look behind her. Sighing when she feels him roll his face into her shoulder, she asks, "Is there something you wanted to tell me?"

"The patent failed," is all he says, disappointment leaking through his words. "Again."

Zhu Li closes her eyes, tipping the wine glass against her lips. "I know, sir, I was there."

"This is awful," Varrick continues, removing his face from the back of her neck. "Just — just awful! I am going to be kicked out of the United Market Coalition and, and — damn it, Zhu Li, I can't go back home with nothing to show for my efforts."

She whips her head back to glare at him, setting the glass aside. "At least you can go home."

At this, he picks his head up from the sofa cushion to look at her properly. "Not everything is about you, Zhu Li." He plops back down into a lying position and continues, sloshing the wine in the glass. Covering his face face with a hand, he says almost apologetically, "I'm sure your uncle wasn't serious."

"I can't access my inheritance. If I even so dare step in Ba Sing Se, he'll have me on house arrest until I marry," she deadpans.

 He considers this for a few seconds. "True... But! You are always welcome to come home with me," Varrick offers, poking her back with a finger. Tracing patterns along the lace of her nightgown, he whispers, "It might be awkward at first. My father still hates me — kind of — but he always liked you, so there's that. And I am sure Manirak misses both of us in equal amounts. But, you know — I mean, if you want." 

"I want to stay in the Fire Nation, sir," she tells him, point blank, like any other option would do her a disservice. She twists to face him, crossing her legs and pulling her knees to her chest. In a whisper, she says, "It's been a good life here. I don't want to leave."

 Varrick drops his eyes and hums in response. His fingers run along the silky fabric that lines her collarbones and pulls at the places where it comes apart. He twirls a few pieces of thread and shakes his head wistfully, "Good life, hm? I think... I think we deserved much better than this, Zhu Li. Especially..."

He glances at her.

"...Me," he says at last, his cheeks flushing bright red once he looks away.

Zhu Li lets her eyes settle on the end of the sofa where the springs have yielded to wear and tear, where the creases under Varrick's eyes have become less of laughter lines and more of sleepless nights. She thinks on it: the failed patents that come in the mail between overdue bills and urgent letters from their families, the eviction notices nailed on the dilapidated wood of their door, the last few weeks spent rationing the remnants of their food. Maybe they deserved better. But the world is not kind enough for the two of them, she supposes; at least, she thinks, they let her have him.

"When do we have to leave?"

 Varrick exhales, and he probably tries to lie to her until he glances at her once more. He shrugs his shoulders noncommittally and attempts to give pass off his answer as cool and collected, "Three weeks."

 But those words must have left a bad taste in his mouth because he scrunches up his face and turns away from her at once and it stings, his rejection. She pulls her courage together and takes his hand in hers and wonders if, by chance, he has any perseverance left.

"That's more than enough time to think of something," she insists.

Varrick scoffs. "I've exhausted my options. There's nothing for me to even do at this point."

"Well," she starts, moving to sit beside him on the couch. When words fail her, she pushes her frames closer to her eyes and shrugs. "What did you want to do in the first place, before you started changing your mind?"

"Seal skins," he mumbles.

"Well then. That. Do that."

He rolls his eyes and she is instantly swallowed by both shame and sadness. Her mouth dries suddenly and she feels as though she wants to cry; pushing the tears back, she rests a hand on his thigh and waits for a thought to come to her, something, anything more useful for her to say.

And then Varrick laughs, suddenly.

"Zhu Li," he says excitedly, finding her hand through the haze of the wine and the cloud of misfortune. He sits up and stares at her like anything she could say would change everything in a second. He taps her palm and prompts, "Hey. Tell me something."

"Yeah?"

"If you could go back in time, would you change anything?"

Her answer is simple, immediate. "I'd follow you into battle, sir, if it was what you wanted."

He grins — toothily, his mouth moving upwards in a way she hasn't seen in weeks. Varrick shuffles closer to her and shakes his head, repeating his question, "No, but — would you change anything?"

"Not at all."

In retrospect, she should have expected the hug. Bone-crushing, arms too tight around shoulders and the scruff of his 5 o'clock shadow scratching her cheeks — all in Varrick tradition, of course.

"You're wonderful," he tells her. "You won't regret your answer. You're brilliant, Zhu Li."

She has half a mind to agree with him, but she settles into his warmth instead. A curiosity befalls her. She decides to wait it out.

X

She sits outside a UMC businessman's office and waits for Varrick. He will bring a final answer — she hopes, anyway — to their problem, that of whether or not their last attempt at saving their business is successful.

Of course, she hopes the answer is affirmative. She scours the classifieds for work, anyway.

Pausing in her search and crinkling the newspaper in half, she turns her head to face the window. Varrick sits attentively as the elderly business magnate, Mongke, seems to talk rather animatedly. Then: a pause. Varrick smiles. Hands are shook. And Mongke slides a contract forward.

Zhu Li puts the newspaper down.

Later that night, a champagne bottle is opened.

X

The sealskin craze bubbles overnight. With what Varrick's sealskins and Mongke's coats now working in tandem, it is hardly a wonder why sealskin parkas were never a thing.

(At least, in Ba Sing Se.)

Zhu Li's uncle, Sun Jie, writes again:

_I have not seen you since the last lunar festival. We miss you._

Tears sting her eyes — but there is work to be done, promises to be kept. And Varrick says, a minute wasted is money lost. Surely, Uncle understands.

_Come home._

"Is everything alright?" Varrick asks, his pen still in his hand, his face contorted in something that could only be translated as worry.

"Yeah, I'm fine, sorry," Zhu Li replies quickly, folding the letter under her arm. "Green tea, right?"

Varrick frowns at her deflection. "Right."

Work to do.

X 

Celebrities begin to wear their coats. It's that serious now.

Mongke and Varrick become good partners fast; so good, in fact, Varrick is appointed as Mongke's trade ambassador, citing Varrick's ultimate experience in the field as the reason for the promotion.

Varrick becomes the face, eyes, ears, and mouth of Mongke's apparel line. And the money that comes with it never stops flowing.

For the record, Zhu Li has never seen Varrick so happy.

X

Zhu Li watches from backstage Varrick's speech at the grand opening of the first sealskin apparel shop in Ba Sing Se. Watches the way he is so natural with the people. The way he smiles all suave. Winks with the right words. The women in the audience are practically eating out of his hand. 

He looks back at her and holds her gaze. Just as he says: "There were roadblocks on the way here. Some people were there to help me push them aside."

 His eyes return to the crowd.

Zhu Li would be lying if she said that didn't get to her.

X

An instance of wealth and gratitude:

"I had this made for you," Varrick says, sitting beside her on the bed they share in their hotel room.

Zhu Li lies on her back next to him, stricken by a long workday and many phone calls and a slight summer fever. The Earth Kingdom is vicious in the heat, and unfortunately, she has been away from it for far too long to be able to withstand the sickness that comes with it. Tired as she is, however, he has her curiosity piqued. "What is it, sir?"

"Sit up. Come here."

Zhu Li does, albeit with great reluctance. "You didn't —" 

"I did, though," he rebuts, handing her a jewelry box. "This is all because of you."

She opens it. A jade stone, carved in the shape of a half moon, hangs from a gold chain. It dazzles even in the dim light of their bedroom; Zhu Li stares at it in awe, then lifts her eyes to meet his.

He looks at her the way he did when they were both nineteen. Shocked. Uncertain.

Varrick tries to take the box away from her. "If you don't like it, I can—" 

It is the first time she kisses him. Chaste, quick. Almost nothing. Her version of expressing gratitude. Kind of.

X

You would think them equals from that day forward.

You would be, as Zhu Li realizes too late, wrong.

X

"I..."

Varrick holds his chopsticks in hand slightly askew, shielding his eyes with his unkempt hair and looking away from her. She looks at him dutifully, pausing for a moment, the noodles between her chopsticks sinking back into the bowl of broth.

"I have been talking to Mongke," he says at last, clearing his throat as he dips his chopsticks into his soup. "He says that you can't attend meetings anymore. At least, the meetings with just me and him. No hard feelings, just business."

For a second, Zhu Li is deluded enough to be surprised. "Oh? But..."

"But what?" Varrick cuts her off, stuffing his face with noodles. "What does it matter, anyway? Even if I disagreed with him—I work for him. We work for him." 

So he doesn't disagree. She has to bite her tongue. "You're right, sir."

Varrick, pleased, continues on with his dinner and rambles about inventory and networking with others in the business. Not that it matters to her. Or at all.

X 

Their house is outstandingly big. Too big, she thinks, for two barely adults with five suitcases between them.

(Too big — she thinks he did this on purpose. Two wings apart. Put some distance. It's fine.)

She looks back at Varrick making a grand gesture with his hands at the house before them. Beside him is a contractor, busy jotting down...whatever Varrick is suggesting. She sighs, then, lugging forward their carousel of suitcases; sometimes, you got to do things yourself. 

X

Mongke dies one day, but it was all expected, anyway.

Varrick takes over the apparel business. This was also expected.

And then Varrick comes home later, and later, and sometimes, he doesn't come home at all. At least for a few days, with his eyes blazing red and his tie suddenly missing, a pounding headache and no work done. 

Zhu Li picks up the pieces her boss leaves in his wake. 

With a heavy heart. And some complaint. But never fail, she is always there.

X 

"Varrick?"

Giggles erupt behind the door. Her blood boils, but she's not sure why — just annoyed, that's all, she reasons.

" _Varrick_!" she yells, knocking frantically on his door until: 

Varrick, suit askew, his chest hairs clearly in sight. He looks exasperated, almost irritated at her for interrupting...whatever she interrupted. "What could you possibly need me for at this hour that couldn't wait until morning?"

 "Your lawyer, Jungwon, called. You need to  meet him downtown right now — he said it's urgent, and your business is in danger because you —"

Varrick rolls his eyes and silences her with his pointer finger to her lips. "I hear what you're saying, Zhu Li, really, I do. But tell Jungwon I have a firebender in my room looking to show me just how hot she can get, and frankly, some things are once in a lifetime. _So_! Call him back! I'll see him in the morning!" 

He winks.

A door shuts in her face.

X

 A meeting:

Jungwon (a nice man, well dressed, a non bender from the Fire Nation, glasses a bit too big for his face) sits across from her.

She (a tired woman, in home clothes, an earthbender, glasses snug on her nose) takes the papers on the table and tucks them in her purse.

"He didn't come?" Jungwon asks, disappointed. "Why?" 

"He has other affairs to attend to. But I will keep him apprised, don't worry," she says, and even smiles for effect.

The lawyer eats it up.

 At least someone is fooled.

X

 She wakes up to the SealSkin Apparel stock at an all time low. Zhu Li doesn't know what possesses her to do so, but she rises from her bed and walks – angrily, mind you – to his office.

And he's hungover. Good.

"Zhu Li, could you please be courteous and not be so loud," Varrick moans, cradling his head between his hands. "I have a migraine. You're making it worse."

She scoffs, then comes closer to his desk. "I'm sorry, sir, but we are past courtesy now. Explain this." 

She slams the newspaper on the desk in front of him. 

He pouts, peeking at what she's pointing at. "Ah, the Lotus Triad won the pro-bending—" 

"No, you idiot," she nearly yells, circling the column that shows the current stocks. " _This_."

 He tilts his head at her. "That's the market for you."

"Are you fu—Varrick, look at me," she says, her voice low and serious. "You keep this up, and everything we have worked for will go up in flames."

" _We_?" Varrick guffaws, rising from behind his desk. He gets closer to her and leans in, angry, and says, "Listen to me, honey, whose name is on all the letterheads and newspapers and every legal document? Huh? That's right!— _Mine_! I brought this company to the forefront, I got it to be a worldwide business, I did everything, and all _you_ did was get me tea and answer my phone calls." 

And, well. She's had it.

" _I_ saved this company from a lawsuit that would have crippled it to bankruptcy because you—didn't—pay—up—when you were supposed to," she screams, punctuating each word with a punch to his chest. "Because you can't keep your pants up—because you—I gave up _everything_ for you, Varrick, and you can't even— _acknowledge_ that." 

She doesn't know when she started crying. It's just that her vision is blurry and her throat is all choked up, and she's shaking, visibly.

But Varrick is unsympathetic. "I didn't force you to come with me."

"No, you didn't," she concedes, laughing at that. "Stupid me, I believed in you. And now it's too late."

Zhu Li does see him soften. Sees him reach to touch her shoulder, but she turns around and heads out of his office.

"Zhu Li—"

She whips her head back at him, then. "This is your mess to clean up. I'm not doing anything above my pay grade any longer."

Door closed. 

X

Zhu Li comes into his room to find him sitting at the edge of his bed, head bent in contemplation and hands folded in his lap. Inhaling deeply, she closes her eyes as if doing so can suddenly make her braver.

It kinda works.

She takes a seat next to him, and to her surprise, he relaxes. 

The silence between them is still thick.

 "You know," she begins, causing him to perk his head up to look at her. "I never told you why I don't earthbend. On principle."

"No," he says quietly. "You didn't." 

She takes in a deep breath. "When my parents died...I tried, but... I could not save them. How could I? They were dead long before I arrived, you know. So I, I thought, what's the point? If I couldn't save the two most important people in my life, then..." 

Zhu Li shook her head. "But that's all water under the bridge. I'm not over it, but, well..." 

"Why are you telling me this?" he asks, voice low.

"Because that's it. There is nothing between us anymore. No secrets. Nothing. At least, on my part," she says so quietly that she's not sure he heard her. "Varrick, I..."

"Don't say it, please," he whispers, clutching her hand suddenly. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm sorry. I don't know how many times I can say it. I'm sorry. I'm sorry." 

But she averts her gaze and keeps her head up. "I just don't think it means anything when you say it when you have nothing else to lose."

He kisses her. It blindsides her, then, and it feels like all of the world comes crashing down into her lap and her hands move to his face and it feels like — it feels like —

"No, Varrick, stop," she says, her heart breaking in her throat. " _Stop_." 

Varrick has her hair in his hands and pressed his cheek against hers. "I’m sorry. You have to forgive me. I screwed up, and I am sorry.”

"You don't get to do this to me," she declares with a confidence she must have picked up from him along the way, but there are tears on her face and her lower lip wobbles and she just can't, sorry, she can't. She reaches behind her neck and unclasps the necklace he gifted her a few months ago. "Take this back. Please."

It falls in his lap. She rises, then, pulling away from him at last.

He stares at her. Lost. Wandering. "What now?"

Zhu Li closes her eyes, searching for the bravery that put her here. She turns her back towards him. "I think we work better together professionally. You are my boss. I am your assistant. That's all we are, sir."

_Sometimes you see the bullet before it hits._

She braves a glance at him before she leaves at last. His eyes are on hers, begging her to stay. 

And it kills her.

It kills her to deny him. To deny herself. But...

She looks away.

_This was it._

X 

"Good morning," he says, cheerfully, a mug of coffee in his hand and a bounce in his step. "Hope you slept well, Zhu Li, because we have a big day ahead of us. Lawsuits don't resolve overnight. I'm going to need those contracts on my desk and, um, a sandwich, because I don't think we'll have time for lunch. And tea. Tea is always a great idea."

"Anything else?" she asks, a bit confused.

He ponders for a second. "Just don't take long."

Varrick leaves almost instantly. 

So that's how it's going to be. 

X

"Zhu Li, get me the thing."

And she does.

X

They do good things together, like this. Arm's distance apart, they make billions of yuan, transform a business into a company into a conglomerate. They move to Republic City, move into a penthouse, and life, now, is almost sweet. Years pass, things don't change. Except people know them as a pair — she doesn't know how Varrick feels about this, but it happens, and he doesn't seem to mind.

(Is she happy? Is he?)

But sometimes she sees him looking at her, only her, and something strange overcomes her. And he looks at her like he’s losing something. A fight. A battle. For all Varrick is, even he cannot hide his pain.

(Does it matter?)

He always looks away, anyway. Flashes a smile, says something stupid. 

(He always looks away.)

X

One morning, Varrick is soft with her. The phone is still in his hand when he gestures for her to come closer.

"I just got a call from your aunt, Zhu Li," he says slowly. "Your uncle, Sun Jie... he, uh, he passed away last night."

Tears burn in her eyes. And it feels like she's crumbling inside and out. 

"Do you need—?" 

Varrick's hand stops midway to her arm. As if he remembers their agreement. As if it was instinct to comfort her.

But he stops.

A sob rips through her. And then she stops, too, and says: "I will need a week off, sir, and a ticket to Ba Sing Se. Sorry for the inconvenience. Please excuse me."

Varrick looks at her like she just slapped him in the face. Clearing his throat, he says, "Of course. Take as much time as you need."

"Thank you, sir."

X

 When she returns from Ba Sing Se, still in mourning clothes, she walks into his arms. This is their warmest moment in years.

X 

"That never happened."

"Agreed."

X

 A moment, stolen from his twenty-eighth birthday, winter solstice:

He is very, very, very drunk. The stumbling sort, with a few missteps along the way. To be fair, so is she, and the world is slow here, but it's fine. He's just got to get to bed, and they can sleep it off.

(She surprised him with the celebration. Brought him home and there was everyone they have ever known.) 

She leads him to his bed with a "goodnight, sir" hinging off her lips. But Varrick grabs her forearm and brings her closer, with a smile, and a question written all over his face.

"Yes?" she asks, throat tight. 

"Sometimes, I wonder," he whispers, "what is the point of all this money if I cannot..." 

"Cannot what?"

She feels like she is going to faint.

"Can we pause?" 

Zhu Li has nothing to say, nothing to ask. Because she knows what he wants.

(It's what she wants, too.)

"I just..." and draws her closer, allowing her to take up space beside him, curling into his side as if she is the only thing that could fit perfectly next to him. His hand finds her waist. Her hands. And his lips touch her neck.

"We can't do this," Zhu Li whispers, but she shudders into him anyway. She turns in his arms so that she faces him, and he glances down at her with a pained expression.

"I can have the whole world, but not you," he says almost desperately. "I just need a moment. My birthday gift." 

"This whole night was your birthday gift, Varrick," she points out sarcastically. But she takes her fingers and rests them against his cheeks, studies his eyes and how he watches her carefully, like an artist observing his subject.

Varrick leans down and kisses her sweetly, languidly, as if he plans to do this forever.

"Moment over," he tells her against her lips. "Thank you. Good night, Zhu Li."

She leans back. Smiles. "Good night, sir."

It is the slowest walk back to her room. The hardest. 

X

A young woman by the name of Asami Sato comes through their office one day, seeking help and a way to get her business back on its feet.

For the first time in a while, Zhu Li watches Varrick offer his help.

She has to smile at that.


End file.
